پینوشت: ماه رمضان از پس فرداست... ته دلم رو محکم می کنه...
Saturday, July 30, 2011
کیش
پینوشت: ماه رمضان از پس فرداست... ته دلم رو محکم می کنه...
Sunday, July 24, 2011
بالا... بالا... بالاتر....
Saturday, July 23, 2011
ﺳﮑﺘﻪ ﻧﺎﻗﺺ
ﻫﻤﻴﻦ ﺩﻳﮕﻪ... ﺑﻪ ﺧﻴﺮ ﮔﺬﺷﺖ...
ﺁﺩﻣﻴﺰﺍﺩ ﺭﻭ ﻭﺍﺳﻪ ﺑﻌﻀﯽ ﮐﺎﺭﻫﺎ ﻧﺴﺎﺧﺘﻦ... ﺣﺎﻼ ﺑﻴﺎﺩ ﺧﻮﺩﺵ ﺭﻭ ﻫﻢ ﺑﮑﺸﻪ! ﺍﮔﻪ ﺧﻮﺩﺵ ﺭﻭ ﻧﮑﺸﻪ، ﺑﻘﻴﻪ ﺭﻭ ﺑﻪ ﮐﺸﺘﻦ ﻣﯽ ﺩﻩ.....
Friday, July 22, 2011
That's it!
it's all about the land, the land that its wind doesn't have a color to paint with... or at least doesn't show it up for everyone... this land is scared... doctors may call it apoplexy...
Savage... I could be... yeah I could be....
as Mercedeh's father call us: Persian Savages (good to mention that he himself never want to leave that savage land...) yes we are.... yes we could be...
Miles away... yet I feel the suffer of that land's spirit... I know, it's there and suffering, but least the spirit is there... I feel it... I feel its existence...
and yes I care, since that's whom I'm talking with, whom have made be "me"... I do care... I want to care... I... whom...
And now I'm here, letting part of that spirit grow and live inside me, suffering but living...
that spirit just like me needs friends, she looks around... yells around... Anyone?...echo... emptiness... echo...
It's almost two years since the day I'm running around, along with the part of spirit of mine... she couldn't find a friend... neither I... I talk, I laugh, I... but she is yet alone... looking at me, suffering more and more...
I call many alive ones around, as "my friends". I hug them more than friends of mine back at home... I am readier to be part of the land... part of the world... part of the moon, lawns, mountains and hills... but no one hugs me back...there is no acceptance... or at least it's me not feeling any acceptance...
People are nice, right... but am talking about smiles of the lands...
Filling the smile of the leaves, bricks, stones while talking with them... filling the hand of God massaging me while going deeply to dreams...
For ages, when I woke up, it was me deciding to leave the bed... feeling that God out there is patting me all night long... but here after two years, its still bed pushing me out! he doesn't want me... he is just a bed! he is just... "it"!
Since the day I put my steps here, I couldn't have a dialog with the sky! I saw the stars, but it seems they don't have a wish to talk back with me... the starts of this land are brighter, but I believe they are weak inside! they afraid of strangers... and they could be right... they suffered a lot by accepting the strangers in the past...
These so-called Americans made this land to kill his own spirit... or at least hide it somewhere in the caves or somewhere under the seas and rivers... somewhere between clouds...
I couldn't be Pocahontas anymore, without spirit of the land...
that could be one of the rare things, I could do for her...
ps. let's play with play-toys of so-called Americans... toys of nature in the hands of settlers, sitting and turning their back to real, lonely nature...
Happy Alexander Calder's 113th birthday, who at least brought the toys of nature, to hands of the people here...
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Swan Lake
پینوشت: صبح شد... الانه که خاله لیلا اینها بیدار شن... وقتشه که برم بخوابم...
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Black Swan
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As Negar does......
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
خر در گل...
Friday, July 8, 2011
دلم... آی دلم
بیش از پنجاه میلیون کودک به انجام بازی تنیس علاقه مند شده و شروع به آموزش می کنند.
و امروز وقتی که درد می کشم، باز هم اجازه ندارم که از خدا بپرسم :"چرا من؟"
پینوشت بعد از تحریر: این ویدئو رو تو فیسبوک گذاشتم و توضیح نوشتم:
یه دوره ای از زندگیم که کتاب های آیزاک آسیموف هم روم بی تأثیر نبود، زیاد فکر می کردم که حتماً راهی هست که تو اینجا رو زمین سوار چیزی شبیه آسانسور شی، و توی یه کره دیگه از این آسانسور پیاده شی... اما آسانسور درواقع تورو آنالیز می کنه تیکه تیکه ات می کنه تا ملکول و سلول... و اون طرف همونهارو از نو می سازه... بزرگترین مشکلم این بود که تو واقعاً همون آدم خواهی بود؟ یعنی همون شخصیت رو خواهی داشت و همون خاطره ها و همه چی...؟؟؟
زمان برای رسیدن به جواب اون سؤالهای من داریم.... اما لااقل مراحل "کپی-پیست" خوب داره می ره جلو... شاید تو آینده نه چندان دور، علاوه بر خونه ام تو آمریکا و نطنز و تهران، مجبور شم برای پیدا کردن آچارم یه سری هم به خونه مریخم بزنم....
Monday, July 4, 2011
ﺧﻮﺍﺑﻢ ﺁﺭﺯﻭﺳﺖ
ﻣﻦ ﮐﻪ ﻫﻤﻴﺸﻪ ﺧﻮﺍﺑﻴﺪﻥ ﻣﻬﻤﺘﺮﻳﻦ ﻣﻨﺒﻊ ﺍﻧﺮﮊﯼ ﺍﻡ، ﺑﻬﺘﺮﻳﻦ ﺗﻔﺮﻳﺤﻢ، ﻳﮑﯽ ﺍﺯ ﻫﺪﻓﻬﺎﯼ ﺑﺰﺭﮒ ﺯﻧﺪﮔﯽ ﺍﻡ ﺑﻮﺩ، ﺣﺎﻼ ﻧﺰﺩﻳﮏ ﻳﻪ ﻫﻔﺘﻪ ﺍﺳﺖ ﮐﻪ ﺑﺎ ﺧﻮﺍﺑﻴﺪﻥ ﺑﻪ ﻣﺸﮑﻞ ﺧﻮﺭﺩﻡ.... ﭘﻴﻴﻴﻴﻴﺮ ﻣﯽ ﺷﻢ ﺗﺎ ﺧﻮﺩﻡ ﺭﻭ ﺑﺨﻮﺍﺑﻮﻧﻢ.... ﻫﻤﻪ ﺟﻮﺭ ﻓﮑﺮ ﻭ ﺍﻭﻫﺎﻡ ﻭ ﺧﻴﺎﻝ... ﻳﻪ ﻋﺎﻟﻤﻪ ﺣﺮﻑ ﻭ ﺻﺪﺍ ﺗﻮ ﮔﻮﺵ ﻭ ﺗﻮ ﺫﻫﻨﻢ...
ﺩﻳﺸﺐ ﺩﻭﺍﺯﺩﻩ ﺍﺯ ﺧﻮﺍﺏ ﭘﺮﻳﺪﻡ ﻭ ﺗﺎ ﭘﻨﺞ ﺧﻮﺍﺑﻢ ﻧﺒﺮﺩ. ﺍﻣﺸﺐ ﺩﻭﺍﺯﺩﻩ ﺍﻭﻣﺪﻡ ﺗﻮ ﺗﺨﺖ ﻭ ﻫﻨﻮﺯ ﺫﻫﻨﻢ ﺩﺍﺭﻩ ﺑﺮﺍﻡ ﺳﺨﻨﺮﺍﻧﯽ ﻣﯽ ﮐﻨﻪ!!!
ﻳﻪ ﻣﺎﻩ ﻣﻮﻧﺪﻩ ﺗﺎ ﺍﻳﻦ ﺩﻭﺭﻩ ﺍﺯ ﺯﻧﺪﮔﯽ ﺍﻡ. ﻫﻢ ﺗﻤﻮﻡ ﺷﻪ... ﮐﺎﺵ ﺯﻭﺩﺗﺮ ﺗﻤﻮﻡ ﺷﻪ... ﺍﺯ ﺑﺎﺯﯼ ﮐﺮﺩﻥ ﻧﻘﺶ ﺩﻭﺳﺖ ﺩﺍﻧﺎﻳﯽ ﮐﻪ ﺗﻮ ﺩﻭﺩﻭﺗﺎ ﭼﻬﺎﺭﺗﺎﯼ ﺷﺨﺼﯽ ﺧﻮﺩﺵ ﻣﻮﻧﺪﻩ، ﺧﺴﺘﻪ ﺷﺪﻡ... ﻧﮕﺎﺭ ﺗﺮ ﻭ ﺗﺎﺯﻩ ﺍﻡ ﺁﺭﺯﻭﺳﺖ...
ﭘﻴﻨﻮﺷﺖ ﺍﻭﻝ: ﮐﺎﺭ ﻧﻴﻤﻪ ﺗﻤﻮﻡ ﺭﻭﺍﻧﯽ ﺍﻡ ﻣﯽ ﮐﻨﻪ
ﭘﻴﻨﻮﺷﺖ ﺩﻭﻡ: ﻓﮑﺮ ﮐﻨﻢ ﺗﻮ ﻋﻤﺮﻡ ﺍﻳﻨﺠﻮﺭﯼ ﺍﺳﺒﺎﺏ ﮐﺸﯽ ﻭ ﺗﺮ ﻭ ﺗﻤﻴﺰ ﻧﮑﺮﺩﻩ ﺑﻮﺩﻡ ﻭ ﺑﺎﺷﻢ. ﻳﻪ ﺑﺎﺭ ﺩﯼ ﺳﯽ ﺑﻪ ﺷﺎﺭﻟﻮﺗﺲ ﻭﻳﻞ، ﻳﻪ ﺑﺎﺭ ﺷﺎﺭﻟﻮﺗﺲ ﻭﻳﻞ ﺑﻪ ﭼﻤﭙﻴﻦ، ﻳﻪ ﺑﺎﺭ ﺷﺎﺭﻟﻮﺗﺲ ﻭﻳﻞ ﺑﻪ ﺩﯼ ﺳﯽ ﻭ ﻳﻪ ﻣﺎﻩ ﺧﺎﻧﻪ ﺑﻪ ﺩﻭﺷﯽ... ﻧﻬﺎﻳﺘﺎً ﺩﯼ ﺳﯽ ﺑﻪ ﭼﻤﭙﻴﻦ... ﺗﺎ ﺑﺸﻴﻨﻢ ﮐﻪ ﻭﺳﺎﻳﻠﻢ ﺑﻴﺎﺩ... ﺟﻮﻧﯽ ﺑﺮﺍﻡ ﻧﻤﻮﻧﺪﻩ. ﺍﻋﺘﺮﺍﻑ ﻣﯽ ﮐﻨﻢ ﮐﻪ ﺍﺯ ﻧﻈﺮ ﻓﻴﺰﻳﮑﯽ ﺁﺩﻡ ﺿﻌﻴﻔﯽ ﺍﻡ ﻭ ﺧﺴﺘﻪ ﺧﺴﺘﻪ ﺍﻡ.....
ﭘﻴﻨﻮﺷﺖ ﺳﻮﻡ ﺩﺍﺷﺘﻢ ﻭ ﻳﺎﺩﻡ ﺭﻓﺖ
ﭘﻴﻨﻮﺷﺖ ﭼﻬﺎﺭﻡ: ﺩﻳﺸﺐ ﮐﻪ ﺍﺯ ﺧﻮﺍﺏ ﭘﺮﻳﺪﻡ ﻓﻴﺴﺒﻮﮐﻢ ﺭﻭ ﺑﺎ ﺟﻤﻠﻪ ﻧﻐﺰ ﺁﭖ ﮐﺮﺩﻡ!!! ﺑﻌﺪ ﺍﺯ ﺧﻮﺍﺏ ﻓﻴﻠﺴﻮﻑ ﺧﻮﺑﯽ ﻣﯽ ﺷﻢ، ﺍﮔﻪ ﺍﺧﻼﻕ ﻫﺎﯼ ﺳﮕﯽ ﺑﻌﺪ ﺍﺯ ﺧﻮﺍﺑﻢ ﺍﺟﺎﺯﻩ ﺍﺑﺮﺍﺯﺷﻮﻥ ﺭﻭ ﻣﯽ ﺩﺍﺩ، ﺷﺎﻳﺪ ﺩﻧﻴﺎﯼ ﺑﻬﺘﺮﯼ ﻣﯽ ﺳﺎﺧﺘﻢ ﺑﺮﺍﯼ ﺧﻮﺩﻡ.
ﭘﻴﻨﻮﺷﺖ ﺳﻮﻡ: ﻣﺎﻣﺎﺍﺍﺍﻧﯽ، ﻓﺼﻞ ﺧﺘﺎﻡ ﺗﺎﺑﺴﺘﻮﻧﯽ ﺧﻮﻧﻪ... ﺩﻭﺳﺘﺖ ﺩﺍﺭﻡ. ﻣﺒﺎﺭﮎ ﺑﺎﺷﯽ.